


blue ain't your color

by crankgameplays



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bars, Drinking, First Meetings, M/M, Song fic, The Babies - Freeform, Well they are, bjt mark wants Out, but it's mostly mark and jack, i love mark and jack, i love you tyler pls, listen, mark and tyler are not actually a thing, tyler treats him like shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:15:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10242407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankgameplays/pseuds/crankgameplays
Summary: Mark just wants a new hair color. Jack doesn't approve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first finished fic since december. comments (criticism) and kudos are always appreciated

'i can see you over there, starin at your drink, watching that ice sink, all alone tonight' 

mark really doesn't drink. most of the time, anyways. he doesn't like the taste of alcohol, doesn't like the way it makes his stomach queasy, and he certainly doesn't like the repercussions of it that comes with the next morning. but here he is, sitting in some random bar that he only ever comes to with tyler. he shakes his head as he stares at his drink, ice melting into the alcohol. he came here to forget about him, not think of all the memories they had. he sighs and takes the drink back in one glorious, throat burning shot. he runs his hands through his freshly dyed hair, a sticky feeling of regret clinging to his chest. or maybe that's just his damp hair clinging to his fingers. he clearly remember what happened earlier in the day, when he asked tyler if he thought red was a good color for his hair. his boyfriend had laughed in his face, shaking his head quickly. 

"god no," he grinned at marks frown. "red just wouldn't look good on you. you're way too tan, i think you should go with blue," he said, glancing over mark before going back to playing his video game. he ignored mark until he had left the house, disappointedly making his way over to the hair salon. he sat down in the chair and, when asked what color he wanted his hair, he quietly muttered 'blue.' he sat quietly through the whole ordeal, and gave a huge fake grin when it had been done and he saw himself in the mirror. secretly, he hated it. but that wasn't the lady's fault, and he wouldn't make her feel bad for doing what he asked of her. he gave her a huge tip, a hug, and left the salon. he spent the entire drive home running his fingers through his wet hair, and when he got there to find tyler passed out with a bottle of liquor next to him, he instantly turned around and walked away. mark sighs, shaking his head of his depressing thoughts. 

'and chances are, you’re sittin’ here in this bar, cause he ain’t gonna treat you right'

he loves tyler, he really does, but maybe they just weren't right for each other. tyler was always nitpicking at him, putting him down, telling him he wasn't good enough, he didn't deserve tyler, threatening him with leaving at all times. for a long, long time, mark believed him. that he wasn't good enough for tyler, that he wasn't attractive enough, too loud, too much of a crybaby. it took him a long time to realize that no, tyler was wrong, he was good enough for him. the thoughts have been plaguing his mind for weeks. he was the one that was too good for tyler. tyler was the one that didn't deserve him. a few quick taps against the bar call his attention from his musings to the bartender.   
"what's this?" he mumbles, looking down at the drink placed in front of him.   
"whiskey sour," the bartender answers, glancing down the bar. mark takes a hint because, seeing as he didn't order this, someone must have sent it to him. he glances down the bar, following the bartenders line of sight, and the first thing that catches his eye is a shock of dark green hair. the next is a blinding smile, and a pretty blush, before he's looking away. mark is flustered, from the tips of his hair to the soles of his boots. he glances down at the drink and picks it up, looking over to see that green hair is still turned in his direction. he raises the drink in a silent salute before bringing it to his lips and downing it all in one quick shot, which the drink is not meant to be taken as. he understands why when his throat feels like it's on fire, and his stomach twists over and over again. he ignores it and gives the impressed looking guy a smile, setting the drink down and sliding the glass to the bartender. 

'well, it’s probably not my place, but I’m gonna say it anyway, cause you look like, you haven’t felt the fire, had a little fun, hadn’t had a smile in a little while, baby'

"the drink comes with a message," the bartender informs him as he refills the glass. mark raises his eyebrows.   
"alright," he says, voice a little scratchy from the harsh burn of the alcohol. "lemme hear it," he takes the glass that's handed to him.   
"he says, and i quote," the bartender looks a little uncomfortable, and mark's curiosity is piqued. 

'blue looks good on the sky, looks good on that neon buzzing off the walls, but darling it don't match your eyes. i'm telling you, you don't need that guy. it's so black and white, he's stealing your thunder, baby blue ain't your color' 

"he says you're too pretty to be lookin so sad, and that if you want someone to make you happy, to join him," the bartender shifts from foot to foot, gives him a quick nod, and moves down the bar to a different customer. mark knows the guy is cute. he thinks he's adorable and, despite how terrible tyler treats him, he would never cheat on him. but god is the stranger tempting. mark takes a sip of his drink before standing and making his way over to the dark haired stranger. the stranger seems surprised before the expression on his face melts into cool and calmness.   
"hello there. didn't really think you'd take up my offer," the guy looks up at him and gestures to the seat next to him. mark takes it.   
"i'm not. i have a boyfriend," he explains. but then why did he sit. the stranger looks affronted for a moment. 

'i'm not tryna be another just pick you up kinda guy, tryna drink you up, tryna take you home. but i just don't understand how anther man could take your sun and turn it ice cold' 

"what? god no. i'm not the type for one night stands. i just wanted to say, whoever he is, he doesn't deserve you," the guy shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. mark has no clue what to really respond.   
"what are you talking about?" he asks with offense.   
"my names jack, by the way," mark thinks the guy-jack- is gonna straight up ignore his question. "and you're sad. not sad enough that you just got out of a break up, but sad enough you want to be out of one. and i just don't think it's a good look on you," jack shrugs once more, and mark feels his anger dissipate.   
"mark," is all he responds, turning to face the bar. jack slides him the rest of his drink, and mark sips it quietly without much thought. after jack orders another drink, they sit there in silence. it's ten minutes later, after the drinks had slowly been finished off, that jack speaks up. 

'well, i've had enough to drink and it's making me think that i just might tell you if i were a painter i wouldn't change you, i'd just paint you bright, baby' 

"i don't like the color," he says without turning to look at mark. mark is startled out of silence, eyes widening slightly at the irish accent that he hadn't been expecting to hear break the silence.   
"the what?" he asks in confusion.   
"the color of your hair. blue isn't your color," jack finally turns to face him. "i'm, well, i'm a painter. and if i were gonna paint your portrait, i'd go red. definitely," he offers up a smile that's a little lopsided, and it makes mark's heart stutter. he ignores the butterflies that flow through his stomach. red. jack would paint him with red. god, if it wasn't for tyler right now.   
"red," he whispers, and jacks eyebrows bunch together in confusion. "you'd paint me red?" he asked, louder.   
"well. yeah. i mean, you look good with anything. you're beautiful," jack shrugs and stands up.   
"it's getting late, mark, and i have work tomorrow. it was an honor to talk to you." mark's brain takes a minute to catch up to jack's words, and he jumps out of his seat and catches jack's wrist in his hands. jack looks back at him, startled.   
"wait!" mark yells, tugging at jack's wrist. "wait. maybe you could paint me sometime. yanno, with red," he scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face head up.   
"i was right," jack murmurs. "you do look good with red." 


End file.
